turn thanks to me, that the book which he is then
reading was read by his parents.'

May this work find many readers, and true, appreciative admiration.

FLOWER, FRUIT, AND THORN PIECES; or, The Married Life,
Death, and Wedding of the Advocate of the Poor, Firmian Stanislaus
Siebenkaes. By JEAN PAUL FRIEDRICH RICHTER. Translated from
the German by EDWARD HENRY NOEL. With a Memoir of the
Author by THOMAS CARLYLE. Ticknor & Fields: Boston. For
sale by D. Appleton & Co., New York.

Scarcely had we finished our few remarks on the 'Levana' of Jean Paul,
when we were called upon to welcome another work from the same loved
hand. We have long known and prized 'Flower, Fruit, and Thorn Pieces.'
The writings of Richter have humanity for their text, and it has always
been a matter of astonishment to us that they were not more widely known
in this country. His style is peculiar, it is true, but it is the
peculiarity of originality, never of affectation. His illustrations are
drawn from every source, from science, art, history, biography, national
manners, customs, civilized and savage; his imagery is varied,
exquisite, and natural, and his religion embraces all creeds and sects.
He is the preacher of immortal hopes, of love to God, and all-embracing
human charities. His plots are merely threads to string his pearls,
opals, and diamonds upon. We prefer him greatly to the cold, worldly,
and classic Goethe. His works always have a meaning, for he was a lofty
and original thinker. He was colossal and magnanimous both as man and
writer. Carlyle says of him: 'His intellect is keen, impetuous,
far-grasping, fit to rend in pieces the stubbornest materials, and
extort from them their most hidden and refractory truth. In his Humor he
sports with the highest and lowest; he can play at bowls with the Sun
and Moon. His Imagination opens for us the Land of Dreams; we sail with
him through the boundless Abyss; and the secrets of Space, and Time, and
Life, and Annihilation hover round us in dim, cloudy forms; and
darkness, and immensity, and dread encompass and overshadow us. Nay, in
handling the smallest matter, he works it with the tools of a giant. A
common truth is wrenched from its old combinations, and presented to us
in new, impassable, abysmal contrast with its opposite error. A trifle,
some slender character, some jest, quip, or spiritual toy, is shaped
into the most quaint, yet often truly living form; b